A Pillow Fort, A Prune And A Gavel
by Ultraviolet-Ink
Summary: Rachel has called an 'Emergency Girl Meeting' - but for what? Certainly not what everyone else seems intent to talk about...  Rated for language and vague sexual references - literally, you have to squint.


**Author's Note: Exams are chuffing over, life is awesome, and so I'm celebrating with Klaine fluff. Good times...**

**Yeah, we know I don't own anything recognisable, we **_**know**_**.**

* * *

><p>"Okay, I'd like to call this emergency girl meeting to order." Rachel rapped the gavel sharply on the table, feeling indebted to Kurt for mentioning this handy tool. "The first order of business –"<p>

"First order of business," Kurt interrupted, looking up from where he was plucking Lauren's eyebrows. "Is that, although I'm an honorary girl, I'm not an _actual_ girl, so can we please stop referring to me as one?"

"Denied," Santana said promptly, admiring her nails. "Come on, Kurt, 'Emergency Girl and Kurt Meeting' doesn't really emphasise the _emergency_."

"I – oh, alright," Kurt huffed. Rachel raised her eyebrows.

"Is that sorted? Okay, the second order of business –"

"Yeah, second order – how do I convince Sam to stop attempting to pay for our dates, and just save up his money?" Mercedes said, taking out one of the headphones she had been sharing with Tina.

"Oh, you can't," Quinn replied, not turning her head from the movie playing on Rachel's Oscar viewing screen. "He's your typical Southern gentleman, and he'll never let you pay for yourself, let alone him. My advice is to avoid dates where either of you would have to pay until he gets back on his feet." Mercedes smiled at Quinn in gratitude; Quinn didn't notice, as she was still staring avidly at the television.

"Quinn!" Kurt called over to her. She paused the film and said,

"What?" Her eye was twitching slightly, and Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Just wondering why you were staring at 'Moulin Rouge' like it's your source of life."

"I've never seen it before, okay? And it's giving me a warm, fuzzy feeling." Lauren tried to suppress a snigger.

"Oh dear, little Quinny's going to be mentally scarred by the ending." Kurt snorted in response.

"Right, fine," Rachel said loudly, causing Quinn to turn up the volume so that 'Elephant Love Medley' was vibrating through the speakers. "_Third_ order of business –"

"My computer's broken," Brittany said, cutting across Rachel abruptly.

"What's wrong with it, Britt?" Tina asked, tilting her head to the side inquisitively.

"I think my cat's been downloading porn onto it." There was a long pause, in which Santana had buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Um, okay..." Tina said slowly. "Any ideas on how to stop Britt's cat from downloading porn onto her computer?"

"How about just not letting him _on_ your computer?" Rachel said through gritted teeth. "_Fourth _order of –"

"Oh, I've just realised – this will probably be the last time we'll ever have a senior year group sleepover before we all go off to college!" Tina said. Everyone looked set to launch into long speeches of mutual affection, when Rachel said angrily,

"Look, we can have another sleepover tomorrow or something. Can we _please_ get onto why I _called_ this meeting?" Mercedes clapped her hands excitedly.

"You're right, you're right," she said, prompting a nod from Rachel. Mercedes turned to Kurt. "So, spill _everything_ about your date – we want deets, white boy." Rachel spluttered indignantly as Kurt's cheeks turned a dusty pink.

"Well, I think you're all incredibly nosy for wanting to know about mine and Blaine's relationship, and I think I'm just going to refuse to tell you _anything_." The girls all raised an eyebrow – except for Rachel, who was pushing her cheeks up with her hands and sighing irritably. "Okay, fine, I'll tell you – but this is absolutely the _last_ time."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Santana said, crossing her legs and looking at Kurt expectantly. "Now, tell us everything, we want explicit information, leave no stone unturned, no minute undocumented, no –"

"Santana, we didn't have sex."

"Oh." Santana released a long-suffering sigh before shrugging. "Don't feel you need to tell us everything, then." Brittany leaned over to whisper in Santana's ear, causing her to brighten considerably.

"Come on, Kurt, I'm living my love life vicariously through you and this movie at the moment, get on with it," Quinn paused the film as she spoke, and directed her full attention at Kurt.

"Well, it started yesterday afternoon, as I got in from school..."

* * *

><p>Kurt walked into the Hudmel house, expecting silence to greet him – after all, Finn had football practice, and his dad and Carole were at work. Or were supposed to be, anyway.<p>

"Alright, kiddo? How was school?"

"Hi, Kurt, honey!" Kurt followed the voices into the sitting room where, sure enough, Burt and Carole were curled up on the couch together.

"Dad? Carole? What're you doing home?"

"Well, I had the day off work," Carole started.

"And when the guys at the shop heard, they told me to take the day off to spend with my beautiful wife," Burt finished. Kurt looked between the two of them.

"Do you want me to go, then? I'm sure Mercedes won't mind if I go over to hers for a few hours."

"Oh, it's alright son, we've already –" Kurt clapped his hands over his ears.

"La la la, not listening, don't want to hear the end of that sentence, la la _la_." He took his hands away cautiously. "Honestly, I've supported you guys from the beginning, can't you psychologically traumatise _Finn_ by referring to your bedroom escapades?"

"We've tried," said Carole, shrugging.

"Yeah, he just looked at me and said 'Dude,'" Burt launched into a reasonable Finn impression that drew a giggle from Carole. "'If you're gonna have sex with my mom, can you get her pregnant – baby girl, please. I wouldn't mind a boy, but I've already got a little brother, and although he's cool and stuff, I want one of each. That'd be pretty awesome.'" Kurt looked blankly at Burt, and then something clicked.

"Oh, for the love of – I'm _older_ than him!"

"Well, we know that, and you know that, but apparently Finn hasn't grasped that being a 'big brother' is not a result of being taller than someone." Kurt left the room, muttering mutinously under his breath about stupid brothers with a lack of common sense; just as he was making his way to the stairs to go to his room, Burt called him back, while Carole let out another giggle. Kurt had to admit, their honeymoon phase was incredibly cute – but it left him wondering just how long it would last, as they were coming up to their first anniversary soon.

"Package arrived for you today – I put it on your bed." Kurt blinked confusedly. "It's not very big." Carole slapped him on the shoulder.

"Stop being a bully, Burt! Your package is lovely, Kurt."

"Okay, seriously, is this conversation full of veiled references I'm just not understanding? Never mind, I'll go see for myself."

Unless he had spontaneously developed internet-shopping amnesia, there wasn't anything he was expecting any time soon, so this mysterious package was sounding quite ominous. Unless his aunt was sending him cake again. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he never ate the cake and just gave it to Finn – cake did nothing for his pear hips.

The last thing he was expecting, however, was to open his bedroom door to find Blaine, curled up and asleep, on his bed. As a matter of fact, he wasn't expecting to see that for quite a while. Not that he thought about that kind of subject matter, of course.

"Blaine?" He went over to the bed and gently shook his shoulder, prompting Blaine to release the most adorable snuffle he'd ever heard.

"Hmm? Oh, Kurt, you're finally here! God, you took forever, I've been waiting for you for _ages_." Sitting up, Blaine rubbed at his eyes, and Kurt managed not to let his eyes flicker too much up to Blaine's curly hair.

"Why're you here? Not that I don't like seeing you, but shouldn't you be just about to finish school by now?" Kurt sat down next to Blaine on the bed, who was shaking his head.

"Apparently there's a reason why you shouldn't release aphids into a school. Did you know that, after a month, they have reproduced enough to force the school to shut so they can fumigate?" He shrugged, while Kurt gaped at him.

"...You cannot be serious. I went to that school, and everyone was really charming and proper and didn't let off stink bombs in air vents, and you're telling me that as soon as I leave you turn into the male equivalent of St Trinians?"

"Yeah, I guess so." He stood up and held out a hand. "Now, come on, I didn't come over to talk to aphid reproduction. I've got plans." Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Such as?"

"Well, that'd be telling, wouldn't it?" He took Kurt's hand and pulled him up, bringing them chest to chest. "Well, hi there," he whispered.

"Hey, yourself," Kurt replied breathlessly. "Do these plans require me to change my outfit?" Blaine looked him up and down thoughtfully.

"Nah," he said eventually. "The skinny jeans are perfect." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You're just saying that because you want to stare at my ass."

"Guilty."

* * *

><p>"This isn't fair – why are all the best guys gay?" Tina said irritably, throwing a cushion at the wall. Kurt narrowed his eyes and titled his head to the side, looking at her confusedly.<p>

"Tina, you have a _boyfriend_."

"Yes, and he tastes of panda hair tea. Does your boyfriend taste of panda? No, I thought not."

"Tina's got a point," Lauren said. "Not that Puckerman tastes of pandas or anything, but Blaine's just so..." She let out a low groan that caused Kurt to reel back, eyebrows drawn worriedly. "No offense, Hummel, but if I were a gay guy I'd totally go for Blaine."

"Really?" Quinn said. "I'd probably go for Kurt. Don't get me wrong, Blaine's awesome, but I think you'd be my type, if I were gay. And a guy." Kurt wasn't sure whether to be grateful for such sentiments, so he wisely chose to say nothing.

"I've moved on from my little Kurt-crush," Mercedes said; Quinn, Santana and Brittany had the grace to look apologetic. "And I've seen what messy drunks you both make, so I don't think I'd go for either of you. Plus, you're my best friend – it'd be a bit creepy now." Kurt nodded.

"You see," Santana said, looking worldly wise and knowledgeable. "I think I'd go for Kurt. Because I reckon he's an absolute _animal_ in bed."

"Yes, okay, _thank you_, Santana," Kurt said uncomfortably.

"Are we finished talking about whether we would or wouldn't with Kurt?" Rachel asked. "Because I really want to talk about –"

"Shut your mouth, Berry, Kurt hasn't finished telling us about his date," Santana said hastily. "Come on, Hummel." Rachel flumped back against the wall she had been resting on, and Kurt continued with his telling of the previous night.

* * *

><p>"Blaine, are you sure you know where you're going? Because, if you'd just tell me where you're taking me, I could probably tell you a quicker way to get there." Blaine laughed at Kurt's thinly veiled attempt to glean more information. "Come on, Blaine, I'm <em>dying<em> here – tell me where we're going, or – or so help me, I will hide all of your blazers." Blaine just made a show of keeping his lips sealed, as he turned left at the intersection. Kurt growled in frustration. "Fine, don't tell me. This is abuse, I tell you."

"We're here." Kurt looked out of the window excitedly, but was confused when all he could see was a regular street of shops and – was that a Mattress Land?

"Where's 'here'?"

"Our first stop. We're doing a bit of shopping. Don't look at me like that, Kurt, all shall be revealed in due time." Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately at his boyfriend. "Hurry up, we've got a lot to do, and we're on a tight schedule." Before Kurt was aware what was happening Blaine had appeared at his car door, opened it and was holding out a hand to help him out of the car.

"Blaine, its times like these that I'm convinced you're a time traveller from the fifties."

"Who said chivalry's dead?" Blaine replied, waggling his eyebrows. Walking arm in arm, Kurt felt a thrill of happiness low in his chest, that he was with a guy like Blaine, in a town like _Lima_. "I've got a friend who's planning on getting his own place, and he's got no idea what he'll need – I think he thought that houses come readily stocked with plates and cutlery. So I said we'd go out and make a list of what we thought he'd need."

"Isn't this playing into the gay stereotype of an obsessive compulsion to interior design though?" Kurt said, looking thoughtfully at some of the window displays.

"Well, yes, but we both play sports of some description, so I figured that'd cancel it out."

"I don't think gay stereotyping is like a points system. Just admit that you want to go shopping for this guy, Blaine. Where do you want to start?" Blaine looked around, as if searching for something in particular, and then shrugged nonchalantly.

"How about we just start at the end of the street, and make our way down?"

* * *

><p>"...Shopping? That was your big date? God, if I wanted to go shopping, I'd go with my mother or something. Put the film back on, Quinn, this date sucks," Santana said irritably. Brittany patted Kurt's shoulder sympathetically.<p>

"Don't mind Santana, she's just angry because she has a lot of feelings," she said wisely, but Kurt had the feeling that he was missing something.

"Don't worry, everyone, that Kurt's story is lacking in drama, because I have a dilemma for you that'll –" Rachel tried to interject.

"I'm sorry, who said anything about this date being crap? We were hardly going to get to the good stuff at four in the afternoon, were we? Quinn, pause the film, Ewan McGregor can wait." Quinn sighed, but pressed the pause button again.

"Alright, fine, but skip the shopping, yeah? Some of us don't get off on it like you seem to." Kurt threw one of Rachel's stuffed animals at Santana, but carried on with his story.

* * *

><p>"Blaine, we're going to run out of paper to write house necessities on at this – whoa, wait, is that Finn over there?" Blaine jumped slightly, and looked around frantically.<p>

"What? Finn? Wait, where?" Kurt pointed at a tall boy who had stopped suddenly in the middle of the street.

"There. It looks so much like him, it must be –" Kurt was prevented from analysing the boy further when Blaine quickly turned him round, put one hand behind his neck and the other on his cheek and pulled him in for a kiss. It was several minutes before Kurt remembered that they weren't in his bedroom, and the noises he was making weren't exactly appropriate in conservative Ohio. He pulled away gently, although the goofy smile on his face informed Blaine that he had very much approved of his surprise kiss attack.

"What... What were we talking about again?" Blaine shrugged happily.

"Can't remember exactly. Come on, part two of our adventure awaits. Back in the car, Mr Hummel." Grumbling good-naturedly, Kurt climbed back into Blaine's car, scanning the list. He couldn't think of anything else they were missing, so he guessed that the second part of their afternoon wouldn't involve shopping.

Kurt was right – however, he couldn't mask his disappointment when they turned into the Hudmel driveway.

"Was that it? Was that our date? Not that I'm ungrateful that we spent time together, but I was – gah, I'm just sounding whiny and high-maintenance now, aren't I?" Blaine chuckled and pressed a light kiss on the tip of Kurt's nose, causing him to grin widely, cheeks stained red.

"Go into your kitchen."

"Blaine Warbler, is that a reference to me going into the kitchen and making you a sandwich?" Blaine swatted at Kurt.

"No. And I promise you, if you agree to stop calling me 'Blaine Warbler', I'll never tell you to make me a sandwich for as long as we both shall live."

"Yes, because that's something you want in your wedding vows," Kurt said, rolling his eyes as he clambered out of the car. Finn's car was still missing from the driveway, but now so was his dad's.

"Dad? Carole?" He shouted as he walked into the house; nobody responded. Walking into the kitchen, he found that the dishes he'd been intending to do later had already been washed, and in their place was a single sheet of paper. Looking at it, he was met with two different writing styles – the first was Carole's.

'Hey, sweetie,' it read. 'Just to let you know that your dad and I have gone out for the night, and we'll be back tomorrow afternoon. And we've been told to tell you to look in the fridge!'

The second writer had only written five words, but it was enough to inform Kurt as to their identity.

'No funny business with Blaine.' Kurt wasn't sure whether to laugh or scream, so his hysterical laughter was a compromise between the two. He opened up the fridge; his various salads had all been relegated to the bottom shelf to make way for a huge picnic hamper, that had a note attached to it in Blaine's handwriting. All it said was 'nom nom nom :)'.

* * *

><p>"Kurt, I'm getting <em>cavities<em> – does the sweetness never _end_?" Santana whined, flinging herself dramatically across the bed.

"Shut up, Santana, this is adorable," said Quinn, sighing dreamily. "I want a Blaine."

"I don't suppose now is a good time to –" Rachel piped up, but was quickly interrupted by Mercedes.

"No, Rachel – we're listening to Kurt, wait your turn." Rachel looked close to madness as she began to rock slowly back and forth, but no one took notice as Kurt continued on his way.

* * *

><p>"Sorry about the rain," Blaine said despondently around a mouthful of sandwich.<p>

"Don't be. I haven't made a fort under the table in _years_ – I'd forgotten what a valid eatery option it could be. Besides, nature is overrated anyway." Blaine smiled happily at Kurt.

"I love you. You're amazing, have I ever told you?" Kurt returned his smile coyly.

"You've mentioned it enough times that I'm starting to believe you." His smile softened. "And I love you, too." He picked daintily at an egg salad sandwich. "So, tell me, oh wise and wonderful Mr Anderson, what exactly is the purpose of this afternoon?" Blaine looked shiftily to the side. "Blaine?"

"What? Can't a guy get together with his hot boyfriend once in a while and spend the afternoon with him?" Kurt brought his hand up to his mouth and examined Blaine.

"Not when his face looks like that, he can't," he said, pointing a finger at Blaine's guilty expression.

"I... Okay, there's an ulterior motive here. Wait, no, not that!" He said abruptly at the shocked look on Kurt's face. "Not that I don't want to – I mean I do, just not – But I don't not want to at the moment, I just... I'm going to stop talking now. Just trust that you'll know by the end of today, okay?" Kurt nodded, still speechless at the turn of the conversation. Eventually, after a few minutes of silence, Kurt managed to find his voice and said,

"You know, all these surprises really can't be good for my blood pressure." Blaine bit back a laugh as he looked at his watch.

"Well, we've got a few hours to kill before I can take you to the final part of the surprise... I've got a good idea of what we can do to pass the time." Blaine smirked at Kurt, who smiled back blithely.

"I've got an idea, too. Let's go watch Disney films!" Blaine's jaw dropped. "What? What's wrong with Disney? You love Disney! I haven't just dreamt that fact up about you, have I?" Blaine, sensing Kurt's panic, began to laugh.

"No, Kurt, I love Disney, it's just – you're adorable, you know that?"

* * *

><p>"Oh, God, it looked like it was going to get good, and then... <em>Kurt<em>!" Santana shrieked in frustration, pummelling her fists into the bed.

"Yeah, I have to agree with Santana here, Kurt," Tina said, shrugging. "I mean, he was practically begging you to make out with him under the table, and then you go all baby-penguin on him." She shook her head sadly.

"Believe me, literally thirty seconds afterwards, I realised I had effectively cock-blocked myself. But what was I supposed to do, turn around and say 'Actually, Blaine, you know what? Screw 'Beauty and the Beast', come ravish me under the table instead'?" Kurt put a hand against his face. "I'm such an idiot – Blaine _Anderson_ wanted to make out with me, and I made him watch Disney."

"Well, I, for one, think it's admirable that Blaine attempted to engage in a more physical aspect of your relationship, but then was perfectly acquiescing when you made the choice to watch Disney films. Bravo to him, I say." Kurt glared at Rachel.

"I didn't _choose_ to watch Disney, because I didn't realise there was a 'choice' going on. If I was aware of the choosing I was doing, I'd have been under that table faster than you forgave Jesse St. Stupid."

"Okay, fine, but now can we -"

"Shut up, Rachel," the girls called monotonously. It was a testament to the number of times it was said to her in a day that Rachel didn't run out of the room, crying at the lack of friendliness she was being shown. Instead, a glazed look came over her eyes and she started humming under her breath.

"Now, Kurt, as fun as listening to Blaine being all chivalrous has been, is the reason you've looked pleased with yourself today to do with the date, or did you just have a particularly satisfying piss or something before you came over?" Kurt turned slowly to look at Santana, who was staring up at the ceiling. He chose not to respond to her comment, however, as he felt he'd probably end up talking lewdly about his non-existent sex life, which was not a path he wanted to travel down again.

* * *

><p>They were about halfway through 'The Little Mermaid' when Blaine's phone buzzed with a text. He practically leapt up off the sofa – a feat in itself, considering Kurt had been almost on top of him, and this spontaneous action left Kurt sprawled out on his sitting room floor.<p>

"Come on, Kurt, come on, your surprise is ready, we have to go, come _on_," he said, bounding around like an eager puppy; Kurt just looked up at him pointedly from his vantage point on the floor. "Oh, right, yeah." With surprising upper body strength for one so small – although, admittedly, Kurt was quite light – Blaine pulled Kurt up off the floor and was dragging him out of the door, down the path and into his car before Kurt reminded him that he needed to lock the door first.

"Oh. Yeah, you should do that..." Blaine fidgeted on the spot until Kurt returned.

"Blaine, are you alright? You look like a kid who's going to Disneyland for the first time. Or somebody who's queasy from a long car journey. Are you sure you're going to be able to drive?" Blaine shook his head, nodded, and then shook it again.

"I'm driving. I don't want you to know where we're going until the last possible minute. You'll figure it out soon enough anyway." Driving off in the car, Kurt was relieved to know that anxious, excited Blaine didn't drive any more erratically than calm, collected, Dalton-esque Blaine.

It took Kurt less than half an hour to determine where they were going – he'd driven the route from his house to Blaine's often enough, after all. However, he remained quiet, because what was really making him curious was that they were going to Blaine's house at all. If he remembered correctly, both of his parents were at home, and while he had a civil relationship with both of them, they tried to avoid going there in favour of Kurt's warmer, more familial home.

Added to that was the fact that Kurt's house was devoid of parentage at the moment, and Kurt really couldn't understand why they were leaving it.

Nevertheless, they eventually arrived at Blaine's house that, as always, made Kurt lose self-esteem just looking at it. He knew that it didn't matter how nice a house looked if the family inside it wasn't a safe haven – hell, he and Blaine were a testament to that themselves – but his materialistic side couldn't help but wonder if he was really _good_ enough for Blaine. The one time he'd voiced that opinion to Blaine, however, he'd gotten incredibly angry – not with Kurt, but with himself, because he thought he'd given Kurt a reason to believe that. So, Kurt hadn't brought it up again.

"Come on, Kurt, it's in the garage."

"Blaine, I've already got a car, thank you very much, and it's a perfectly nice car," Kurt said, hoping that Blaine hadn't actually got him a car. Praying that his generous nature wouldn't get so great that Kurt would have no hope of ever returning the favor.

"It's not a car," Blaine said – the nervous tone in his voice caused Kurt to look at him and take his hands, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Blaine, talk to me. Unless you're hiding ten illegitimate love children in your garage, there's really nothing that's going to make me run screaming from you. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid." Blaine took a deep, shuddering breath, and then started speaking from what sounded like a rehearsed speech.

"Kurt, I know we haven't been together for that long, in the grand scheme of things, but this year with you has been the happiest time of my life so far. We've got plans to go to New York next year, and... Well..." Blaine's eyes widened, and Kurt got the impression that his carefully rehearsed speech had all evaporated from his brain, because the next part came out like a verbal waterfall. "My dad gave me a load of money because he felt guilty for being the world's biggest douche, and it's enough, combined with my savings, for a payment on a flat in New York, and I know you were planning on staying with your cousin, but there's a really nice flat that's close to both our colleges, and it's two bed-roomed, so if you don't want to share a room with me that's cool, but if you _did_ want to share with me that'd be great, because I love you, and..." He stopped suddenly, and pulled Kurt into the garage, gesturing wildly at the copious amounts of furniture piled high. "This is all the furniture we picked out today, and I bought it with the money dad gave to me, and it'd be all _ours_, Kurt, and we could live the New York dream, and... Kurt, say _something_," he pleaded, looking at Kurt with desperate, vulnerable eyes. Kurt let out a breathy laugh.

"You haven't really given me chance to!" He pulled away from Blaine, and looked around at all the furniture that he remembered pointing to for a supposed 'friend' not five hours ago. "This is definitely what you want, Blaine?" Blaine looked at Kurt nervously, but he was staring thoughtfully at a blue chair.

"More than anything, Kurt." Kurt turned slowly to Blaine, his face blank, before a wide grin stretched across his face.

"Come on, Blaine, did you honestly think I was going to say no?" Blaine choked out a laugh, before rushing at Kurt, flinging his arms around his neck and burying his face in his shoulder. Kurt could feel his eyes getting watery as he said repeatedly "Blaine, I love you, I love you so much, I love you."

* * *

><p>Kurt leaned back and smirked appreciatively at his stunned audience – even Santana had wide, shocked eyes.<p>

"We're moving in together at the end of August." There was further silence, and then an explosion of noise as everyone launched themselves simultaneously at Kurt, squealing congratulations and demands to visit them.

"How did he do it without you realising what he was up to?" Mercedes said once the high pitched squeals had calmed to occasional squeaks of excitement.

"Apparently he'd been planning it for weeks – he asked my parents for their help in setting it all up, and – oh, yeah, you know how I said I saw a Finn lookalike? It was actually Finn – Blaine had gotten Finn, Sam, Puck, Mike and Artie to follow us round the shops. He was writing down what I pointed out, giving it to the cashiers and then getting the guys to order all the stuff, load it up in a van, drive it to his garage, unload the stuff and _then_ text him when it was all ready." The girls nodded appreciatively, and then Quinn said,

"So? Tell us _everything_ about the furniture." Kurt leaned forward excitedly.

"Well, some of it's _got_ to go, of course, because I was pointing out stuff suitable for this 'friend' of Blaine's, and I assumed he'd be all hetero and manly. I mean, I pointed out a mini-fridge – why would _I_ need a mini-fridge? Although we found this amazing chest of drawers, they're –"

"Oh, for the love of..." Rachel said exasperatedly, before shouting, "_FINN WON'T LET ME LET HIM TOUCH MY BOSOM!_" There was a long, horrified silence in which everyone stared at each other, before slowly turning to all simultaneously stare at Rachel, who was covering her mouth with her hands.

"What..." Mercedes said eventually. "The _hell_ was that?"

"I'm sorry!" Rachel said quickly, looking mortified. "It just slipped out! I'm happy for you Kurt, really, I am, but I'm having relationship issues, and that was the reason I called this meeting today, and we've spent an hour talking about how happy you are, and then when you started talking about furniture something inside of me just... _snapped_!"

"Then why didn't you just say it, as opposed to screaming it like some insane prude?" Santana said, looking like she was choosing whether to cry laughing or faint at the usage of the word 'bosom'.

"I tried saying it. Nine times. I was interrupted each time, so I figured 'hey, tenth time lucky, right?'"

"Right, okay... Besides the fact you just screamed the word 'bosom' down my ear, and now I will never have a pure soul again, what appears to be the issue?" Kurt said, rubbing his ear for emphasis. Rachel shuffled happily, content now that she had an audience.

"Well, in our early relationship, Finn was always trying to touch my breasts, and then occasionally I'd let him – you know, as a treat. But recently, he's stopped asking, and then the other day, when I asked him – actually _asked_ him explicitly if he wanted to touch me, he said he didn't want to pressure me! I mean, really!" Rachel huffed dramatically, while Quinn raised her eyebrows.

"...Was that all? You do realise that problem is incredibly easy to fix, right?" Rachel looked over at Quinn gratefully. "Just tell him that _you_," she pointed at Rachel. "Want him to touch your boobs."

"But I've already asked him to –"

"No, no, you didn't," Tina said, shaking her head. "You just asked him if he wanted to touch them. Not the same thing."

"Of course he wants to touch them – he's a guy!" Lauren said emphatically.

"What Finn's doing," Kurt said wisely. "Is trying to be all chivalrous. Basically, you told him that you wanted your first time to be special – his wasn't," everyone turned to look at Santana.

"Look, the boy _asked_ me – what was I supposed to do, provide candlelight and talk about my feelings?"

"So he just wants you to feel special and loved."

"This is why it isn't healthy to be a prude. So much sexual repression," Santana said, stretching out her arms as if to relieve tension.

"Can fruit have sex? Is that what juice comes from?" Brittany said, looking at Santana confusedly.

"What? No, that's – wait, Britt, _prude_, not _prune_."

"Is there a difference?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I've got rather a lot of stuff in the works – mainly oneshots, but there's a vague idea for a multi-chapter fic floating up there somewhere. Turns out that when I'm bored during revision I write bits of fanfic, so I just need to develop those out a bit. And there's not just Klaine coming up – there's KurtNew Directions friendships, Samcedes... exciting stuff. *endterriblyinterestingauthor'snote***


End file.
